The Stage
by Quils024
Summary: Loosely based on characters and themes from "The Butterfly Garden" written by Dot Hutchenson. The Actress collects actors and actresses in her Stage to perform miniature plays for her enjoyment. Apollo has accepted this as his life, but a new addition may remind him of the world he was ripped from. Heavy Lemons and mature themes to follow.
1. Chapter 1

_Loosely based on characters and themes from "The Butterfly Garden" written by Dot Hutchenson._

 _Heavy Lemons and mature themes to follow._

* * *

I miss waking up to light streaming in the window. Nowadays it's to the sound of a dripping faucet or potentially someone walking in the hallway, if it was late enough in the morning. But usually, I would wake myself in my dreams. Because nowadays my dreams carry over from the stories in the day, and I just can't bare to watch it again.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. Rubbing my eye with the base of my hand, I glance over to the large envelope at the base of my door.

Another story.

I heaved a heavy sigh as I stood up off the bed and walked across my room to retrieve the character description. Who would I be today? A professor? A photographer? Maybe something more lifelike such as a bartender, or a musician. No, I get the more difficult roles.

I toss it onto the bed and pad into the single bathroom, stopping at the sink to glance in the mirror.

There's some scruff forming on my jaw line, probably should shave it. My hair is getting longer, and will most likely need a trim in a few days, but it could last a little longer. I sigh softly. Who am I? I've played so many characters it's hard to remember who I am anymore.

During my time here at The Stage, I have been stripped of my former self, my former life, and given a new one. I had every intention of remembering every last detail of my old self the first year that I was here. But the one day I went to revisit old memories, only to find them gone. Overwritten by the stories and characters I have played. I've changed a lot, that's all I know.

When I first came to The Stage, I was only 18. Three years later my name was erased, and now I can barely remember the faces of my past let alone _their_ names. Whatever I can remember is altered by pieces from The Stage: my mother and father don't call me by my birth name in my dreams or memories; they call me Apollo.

I scooped a handful of water from the basin and splashed it into my face. I glanced back at the envelope awaiting me on my bed. Not in any hurry, I trudge back to my bed in the corner of my room and sit down on the foot of it, taking the envelope in my hand. I unwrap the string at the top, and dump out its contents: a character description and a scene synopsis.

PERFORMER: APOLLO  
LOCATION: STAGE A  
TIME: 13:00  
CHARACTER DESCRIPTION: REVOLUTIONARY WAR HERO RETURNING HOME AFTER THOUGHT DEAD IN FINAL BATTLE AGAINST THE BRITISH...

After reading the first line I groan and roll my eyes. Seriously? This is what kind of roles I get after three years? This kind of shit should go to Ares, he'd play the war hero just right.

I toss the packet aside, intending to read it for later. I'm turning 22 soon. I don't know when because I don't know what day of what month it is, but from what I gathered after talking to Eros I'm pretty sure it's soon. Grabbing a white shirt from my dresser and pulling it over my head, I head to the door to find Eros- who is probably already bragging about his role in the courtyard.

* * *

If there's one thing The Stage has, it's space. TONS of space. There's a courtyard for leisure activities, there's a workout room but only includes a stationary bike, a treadmill, and jump ropes, a cafeteria-like area that we call the break room, and lastly there's the letter rooms, which we call the _actual_ Stage. And in those rooms, is where the stories happen.

I found Eros in the courtyard, just as predicted, bragging to Ares about his assignment for the day.

"Of course you haven't been a Pastry Chef, man! Because _I'm_ the only one smooth enough to pull it off!" Eros smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ares's face read something along the lines of not-amused and not-caring. "And who says I would want to be? Icing and sugar makes the whole thing too sticky," his face twisted. Ares was large, must have been a lineman in high school. His jaw was squared and his upper body was wider than his lower body. He had to be around six feet tall.

"Not if you know the right way to use it!" Eros ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Eros was smaller than us, but he was filled out for his size. His skin was a mocha color, like a light chocolate, and his eyes were a shade darker.

"Are you done yet?" I raised an eyebrow as I walked up to them. "Will you save it for your story, man? You don't need to convince us."

"Well sorry if I actually get excited about my roles from time to time," Eros said in a huff. "Anything good lined up today?"

Pastry Chef already sounds more interesting than Civil War Hero, so I wasn't about to go bragging about mine anytime soon. "Uhh, haven't read mine yet. Ares?"

His face expressionless, he shrugged. "Sailor, leaving for sea the next day."

"That's not too bad," I admit. Why couldn't I get roles like that? Easy to play, no baggage or thinking attached?

"What time is yours?" Eros asked Ares.

"Later this evening, 6, I think."

"Saving mine for last!" He chuckled.

And mine was first up. Story sets usually began around lunchtime and ran until 8 or 9 in the evening, depending on how she arranged them. Some days we had off, which was a nice refresher. But usually that would be because we had a demanding role or day ahead of us the next day.

Checking the clock on the wall near the hallway entrance, I realized it was already 11:30. I still needed to eat, finish reading the damn description, and get character pieces before 1:00.

"Hey, I have to go, save me a seat at the break room later will ya?" I nodded towards Eros as I backed away. He nodded at me and continued his conversation about icing and all the right places.

* * *

Carrying my description packet with me, I padded down the hallway until I reached the first stage door marked with a large letter A on it. I opened the door and turned right into the male dressing room. On the counter sat my costume for the evening: a white period shirt, a vest, white stockings, shoes, and navy capris. Very...traditional.

I slipped into my costume knowing very well it was going to end up on the floor anyway. To me the costumes and props provided for us were all pointless. They were merely distractions to the end goal of the stories. They didn't provide any function to us except of sometimes getting in the way or making us feel more stupid than we already did.

I glanced at myself in the mirror one last time. At least there wasn't a fucking powdered wig.

* * *

Depending on who the actress in the room with you was, you would start your scene right away. Other times, there was the awkward hesitation of 'do I know you?' and 'when do we start?' or the 'do you wanna go first?' Personally, I would rather just get into it. Delaying it will only make it worse, at least in my mind.

I walked up to the door titled STAGE ENTRANCE, and paused. I listened to the other side to hear if there was anything; music, background noise, a person. But after hearing simple silence, I figured it was as good of a time as any to just push on through.

I must have startled her because she jumped slightly, turning around to face me. Either that, or she was playing her role.

Aphrodite stood facing me in a blue period dress, her long, red hair in a braid, and her hands on her chest in surprise- partial I think for her role, also I think from me genuinely spooking her with my entrance. Her dress revealed the tops of her breasts, which was both accurate for the costume but also in preparation for the story, and her plump lips had a glisten to them.

"You, you were dead," she said softly. She was already in character- thank god.

I took a second to glance around, noticing that the green light above the one-way glass was on, instructing us to move on with our story. The stage was set as a one-room cabin, with a small bed in one corner, a two-person dining room table in the middle of the room, and what appeared to be a fake fire with fake cooking utensils over it in the other corner. There was a hand-made rug on the floor, with fresh wildflowers in a pot on the table.

"I know." I murmured back.

"I, I thought you were dead," she whispered, taking a step towards me.

"I couldn't risk it," I said, meeting her in the middle and putting my hands on her shoulders. "If I had tried to send a letter to you, they would have recovered it and discovered my location. I'm sorry," I placed a hand on her cheek. I was pulling every memory I could from watching The Patriot.

"I didn't know what I was to do without you," Aphrodite said, pulling her braid to the front, running her fingers down its strands. "All alone, with no children, no family-" Leave it to Aphrodite to get right to it.

"You want children?" I put my fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to look at me.

She pretended to blush and pull away from me, running her fingers through her braid again. "I knew _you_ did. I had hoped that while you were gone..." she trailed off. Either trying to play up the drama or because she was unable to finish the line. I'm not sure which. "But nothing happened. I wanted so much to have your child so that even if you were gone, I still would have a piece of you." She turned back to me. Good save.

I brushed the loose hair out of her face. "It's not too late," I raise an eyebrow softly. I keep my hand on the side of her face as I lean down to pull her lips onto mine. I can taste the lip gloss on her, it's sweet and fruity, strawberry maybe. She bites down on my lower lip softly, making my heart flip in my chest.

Aphrodite is probably the most attractive woman in The Stage. Frankly it's always a nice surprise to see her on stage because it won't be as much acting. She is very plump in the right places, but very slender in others. Her skin is soft like a peach, and always smells of honey. She has accepted her life in The Stage, and almost thrives in it, because she _knows_ she is the most attractive and most desired.

I wrap my arms around her waist and while keeping my lips against hers, hoist her up onto my hips. I feel her legs wrap around my waist as I set her down on the table top, my hands moving from her lower half to cup her face.

She takes off my vest and discards it on the ground, while undoing the lacing at the top of my shirt. Once she undoes the small knot she pulls the white shirt over my head and smiles softly. She traces my collarbone with kisses, her nose brushing the base of my neck as she moves to the other side. I let out a soft groan, feeling the blood pooling to the front of my body.

She comes back to the base of my throat, kissing her way down the center of my chest to the top of my stomach causing goosebumps to form on my skin. I feel pressure on my waist beginning to form. I wrap my hands around her back, feeling my way. What the fuck is that? A ribbon? A rope? How am I supposed to undo a fucking corset? Impatiently, I pull her up from the table and turn her around to face the one-way mirror so she can watch. I wrap my hands around her front as I press myself against her back. Her eyes move up and down the two of us in the glass.

I glance down at the mess of knots and ribbon between us. Uncaring, I take the knot in my hands and rip it until the ribbon gives way, making a snapping sound that makes her mouth pop into an O. I pull the ribbon out from her dress, and slide the garment to the floor.

I stand back up and press her against me again. Her naked top half is warm against my cool torso, I run my hands over her smooth belly before gliding them up to cup her breasts. She lets out a moan as she tilts her head back against my shoulder.

"Come here, Love," I whisper and swoop her up into my arms, leaving the dress and broken ribbon on the floor.

I walk over to the bed, our mouths locked on each others. Gently laying her down on the edge of the bed, I get on my knees in front of her. She cups my head in her hands and runs her fingers through my hair. I can now feel a steady pulsing in my pants, pushing against the fabric. My hands find her breasts once again, and cups them as I take one of her nipples in my mouth.

She lets out a steady stream of moans, her legs parting to let me slide closer to her. I softly push her onto her back as I lower my head down to kiss her lower stomach. My hands find her thighs as I feel her hips bucking up to meet my kisses. I glance up at the light above the glass: still green.

Finally, I plant a kiss at the top of her panties, releasing another moan from her lips. Thankfully, Aphrodite isn't much of a talker once you get into it. She leaves the lines and fancy talk for the before and after if necessary. I kiss the waistband of her panties again, and her hips buck softly. I smirk, she seems to be enjoying herself.

I softly kiss once on top of her panties, above the warm spot. She shivers softly and makes a whimpering noise that triggers the bulge that has formed in my pants. I kiss it again, a little harder this time, feeling the warmth and the wetness seeping through the thin fabric. Impatiently I grab either side of her waistband and tug them down to her ankles, tossing them onto the floor. Aphrodite whimpers again, and I kiss her clit softly in response.

I glanced up at the light again: still green. Sometimes, if the play is all one-sided, it will turn to Yellow as a warning to even the field. But thus far, it seems to be working out all right. I use my hands to push her legs apart softly, and kiss her clit again, sucking it lightly. Aphrodite squirms a little, whimpering. Dammit that whimper.

I stand up on my knees to unbuckle my pants, sliding them down to my knees and releasing my member. I take her legs in my hands again, pushing them up slightly. This time, I circle her clit with my tongue before gliding it between her folds. She moans loudly at this and bucks her hips against me. I look up to her face, seeing that she has taken her breasts in her own hands. I smirk and use my thumbs to pull back her lips, revealing her center to me. I trace her clit again, slower this time, and plunge my tongue into her.

The same time I hear her moan loudly in response to my tongue, I hear the chirp of the light turning from green to yellow. She hears it too, and turns to see the light above the glass. Aphrodite blushes and looks down at me.

"Come here, Love," she mocks me, patting the bed.

I can't help but chuckle lightly, using my own lines, what a cop-out. I sit on the edge of the bed, kicking my pants off my ankles. We both look down at the white stockings up to my knees and exchange a "what the hell are those," look. She grins knowingly and slides them off for me before pressing against my chest softly, insisting I lay down on the bed.

Aphrodite is good: she is slow, thorough, and knows her way around. The second she wrapped her soft, delicate fingers around my member I melted into her hand. She could do whatever she wanted to me, and it would be good. I tilted my eyes over to see the light, which had changed back to green again.

She surprised me when she realized I wasn't paying attention, and took my member in her mouth. I sucked in a mouthful of air and let it out in a moan as she slid her tongue up and down its length. This was the easy part, I suppose. The part where as Eros described as _"just lay there and bask in the glory."_ She continued a variation of these things as I closed my eyes. I let out a sigh that turned into a moan as I felt the back of her throat hit the tip of my member.

She stood up from the foot of the bed and hovered over me, kissing my hips and lower abdomen. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling her soft lips touch my waist. Her hands glided up my sides, my ribs, my chest until they wrapped around the sides of my face until she followed with her lips. I felt her hips press against mine: forcing her warmth down against my firm member.

I groaned into her mouth and snatched her lower lip with my teeth. I sat up, cradling her in my lap. My arms wrapped around her body as I guided her legs around my waist. I stood up off the bed, keeping her against my body as I turned her around to lay her back down again.

I walked back to my pile of clothes on the floor and dug into the vest pockets to find a tiny foil envelope. As Aphrodite scooted back onto the bed, I glanced over at the one-way glass on the wall: the green light shining back at me.


	2. Chapter 2

_Loosely based on characters and themes from "The Butterfly Garden" written by Dot Hutchenson._

 _Heavy Lemons and mature themes to follow._

* * *

Aphroditebegan pulling her hair back into a hair tie as she sat up on the bed. The light above the one-way glass shone a bright red, signifying that the scene was over and that The Actress had left the viewing area.

She wasn't shy or bashful, she stretched a little, and sighed softly. "Well, that wasn't a waste of an afternoon," she said bluntly without turning back to face me.

I laid on the bed watching her: I usually let whoever my partner was leave first, I don't like the feeling of finishing a scene and being the first to leave.

"Yeah, I uh, guess it could have been worse," I shrug sitting up as well.

At the she turned around with an eyebrow raised, completely uncovered and uncaring. " _Could have been worse?"_ This was more of a question of clarification than of patronizing.

"No, no! I mean, the plot line. The story- it could have been much worse. You were great," I blush a little, running a hand through my messy hair. She was definitely a partner that gave me sex hair, some others I think were either too paranoid or too focused to care to.

She smiled confidently and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's what I hoped you meant," she smirked. "You weren't so bad yourself, I don't get paired with you very often."

"No, it was a pleasant surprise," I grinned.

She stood up from the bed and turned around to face me. "Well, Apollo? Is it? It was definitely a _pleasure,"_ she leaned forward and grabbed my face again. She pulled my face against hers, grasping my tongue with her own. After biting my lip one last time she pulled away and slowly stalked out of the stage room, leaving her dress behind.

 _Damn._ I thought. Not that I enjoyed having mindless sex, but if it was going to be mindless, at least she made it interesting.

* * *

I guess I should explain what The Stage is, especially since it's not necessary an ahem- normal situation we found ourselves in.

Before I was Apollo, before I found myself at The Stage, I was taken by The Actress. Yes, _taken._ I don't remember specific details about how it happened: all I remember was that I was at college, it was a late night, I was walking to my dorm from the gym when someone came from up behind me and covered my face. The next morning I woke up on my bed in the room that I call mine.

Eros was there to greet me. He had a bottled water in hand for me, telling me that I had been out for a day or so. Taking it slow he explained where I was, what I was, _who_ I was now.

The Actress is a collector of sorts. Of stories. She collects actors and actresses to tell the stories she wants to see. She built The Stage and our living quarters, so she must be a CEO or President of some rich company to be able to create a world like this. Her green eyes pierce through your soul. She has long, brown hair that has a natural curl to it. Her face is soft and loving, and her body is curvy and soft.

In her own weird way, she loves us, because she loves our stories. She visits The Stage every day, cherishing us as if we were her significant others. She assigns the actors and actresses to the stories, she writes the stories, and she watches the stories from the viewing room behind the one-way glass. Sometimes, but very rarely, she assigns herself in the story. What she does behind the glass, I don't know- nor do I think I want to.

She takes very good care of us: providing us our own rooms, plenty of food, space, and to a certain degree, freedom. But none of us have an idea of where we are in the world; all we know is The Stage now. And all we know is if we do not perform her stories, we end up in the bookcase.

Like I said, she loves us all. Actors and actresses alike, she is very specific in who she chooses to collect from the outside world. She gives us each new names, sourcing from Greek mythology, I have determined. But once we become rebellious, if we do not adjust well to our new lifestyle, or we grow old to where we cannot fit in her stories anymore, she assigns a special story. One in a red envelope. And those who have been given the red envelope go into their assigned stage, and never come back. The next morning, you can find their immortalized bodies in an individual glass tank lining her endless rows of books. This is her way of keeping us, loving us, forever.

And this is my life now: assigned a story at least once a day, living in a controlled environment, having sex every day with women I honestly do not know personally. At fist, it was difficult. It was forced, and wrong, and I felt like a robot. But as the weeks dragged into months, I found a way to keep my personality, my sanity, while surviving: I realized that I was able to make the actresses feel ok, feel safe for a little while with me. Let them know that I won't mistreat them, that while we are not in an ideal situation, I can make it ok for just a little while.

Ultimately, I have accepted that this is my life. Because if you fight it, if you fear it, you will end up in the bookcase. I have heard stories of actors and actresses who have tried to fight their way out of The Stage, or who rebelled every story they were given. But you won't see them in the bookcase: as I was told, you would never hear from them again.

* * *

I heard a soft knock on my door just as I turned the page in my latest novel.

"Yes?" I raised an eyebrow. It was a little late for normal visitors.

The large, metal door creaked open just enough for The Actress to slip through. She had on a long, silk robe that grazed the floor. Her hair was braided loosely, with strands framing her face.

"Hello, Apollo," she spoke gently, a smile landing on her face. She shut the door behind her.

I closed my book and sat up on the bed. "Hello," I said.

She cooly glided across the room to stand in front of me. "How have you been this evening?"

"Just wanted to catch up on some reading," I held up my book, keeping a finger in my place.

"Life of Pi?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I am enjoying the creativeness and the idea of being at sea."

"Do you like the sea?" she smiled again, curious.

"I only ever saw it once, as a kid, but I don't remember it very well."

"I see." She sat down on my bed, next to me. "Can I tell you something, Apollo?"

I took in a breath quietly, holding it. "Of course."

"I am bringing in a new actress tomorrow," she began, staring at the carpet on the ground, her hands wrapping around each other.

I raised an eyebrow. We haven't had a new girl in a long, long time. The last new girl we had couldn't stop crying through the story- the light turned red before we could finish the plot...I never saw the girl again.

"Really?" I asked softly.

"Yes," she replied. "But after my last attempt to introduce a new actress to our company, I am hesitant to throw her right into a hard story on her first day."

I agreed with this. My first plot was very intense: associate who worked under a _very_ powerful female CEO had been asked to come into her office at the end of the day to discuss business matters. Little did I know, I would end up tied down on her desk as her submissive slave. Lucky for me, Athena had been the first with me. So while she played the role of a dominant well, she had been at The Stage for a while, and she could smell a newcomer and knew limits. The second it was over, she embraced me and told me that I did wonderfully. You could almost say she is a mother-like person for us all.

I nodded without saying a word.

"I had..." she trailed off, looking across my room, filled with books, CD's, and other little trinkets she had collected for me before looking back at me. "I had hoped that you would be willing to be her first. I watch you with our actresses, you are so loving to them. You take care of them, you are careful," I saw a glimmer in her eye and I recognized what she meant.

I nodded again.

"Of course I will give a very simple story, something basic," she explained in a-matter-of-fact tone, as if it was common knowledge. She clasped her hands together and looked me up and down. "But would be willing to do this for me?"

I looked deep into her green eyes. They were so soft and gentle; was there really something evil behind those eyes? Something psychotic or sociopathic? If there was, I couldn't see it in those eyes.

"Of course, I would be honored to."

She smiled widely at me. "Fantastic!" she brought her hands up to her cheek, then brought them to mine before pulling me into a deep kiss. "Mm, you are a good one, Apollo," she murmured against my lips, smiling at me. She kissed me on the forehead before standing up from the bed.

As I lie in my silent room that night, I wondered what had made her trust me so much. What was it about me that made her feel like she could trust me, that I was so easy to talk to. I wasn't sure if this was a good thing, or something that I should be worried about.

* * *

"Holy...shit..." Eros stared, wide-eyed across the break room over my shoulder.

Confused, I looked at him puzzled to explain what it was he was talking about. But he continued to look over me, so I turned to catch what it was he was looking at: and it didn't take me long to see it.

Rhea has been here just about as long as me, if not right before me. She has a very athletic body, very firm, with a personality to match. She is a fantastic actress and leaves whatever happens in the stage rooms, _in_ the stage rooms. Whenever we (meaning me and Eros) see her in the courtyard or in the break room she simply hangs out with us as if she was one of the boys.

Today, however, she did not look like her more confident self. For one thing, she could hardly see out of her left eye, which was swollen and a deep purple. She had red marks that looked like lines across her neck and her lip had a crack in it.

My mouth dropped and I stood up in my seat. She heard my chair move, and her one good eye shot over to meet mine. She stared for a second before turning her head away from me and wrapping herself in her arms tighter. She darted across the break room into the court yard.

"What in the name of hell happened to her?" Eros asked.

"I have no idea," I frowned. You never saw something like this happen. The Actress would never have allowed it. She frowned upon brutality and harsh stories, and the second that anything of the sort happened the yellow light would flicker, indicating that the actors better change it up and fast.

I stood up from the table, nodding to Eros to watch my spot for me. I followed in Rhea's direction into the courtyard.

She was sitting by the little pond with large rocks surrounding it. She had dipped her toes into the water which I assumed was cool, twirling her finger around in the grass.

"Rhe?"

She jumped, startled by me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said hushed, sitting down beside her.

"Apollo," she gasped, choking on air. It was like she couldn't form words. She grabbed my forearm for stability. "I- he-"

"Who did this to you?" I said sternly, holding onto her with both of my hands.

She sniffed hard, forcing back tears in her right eye. "Zeus."

My jaw clenched. Zeus was the all-around hot-head, oddly enough, who was named for the God of Lightning instead of the God of the Underworld. He was large, testosterone-driven, and truly believed that his presence here was a gift from the gods above. Instead of seeing this place as a prison, or as a place he would end his days, he saw it as a place where women would praise him each day. Needless to say, Eros, nor Ares, nor myself got along very well with him.

"When did this happen? She would have stopped it-"

"It happened after the light turned red," she said, exasperated. "I was getting ready to leave, we had finished the story, he told me I wasn't going anywhere, and grabbed me..." she trailed off. I could figure the rest out.

"Why you?" I asked. I had never seen another actress who had looked like this.

She shrugged. "Don't know, didn't ask him." Of course Rhea would respond in such a way. She wasn't one to throw a pity party for herself. "I'm fine, Apollo," she reassured me.

"You don't look fine," I insisted.

She smirked through the bruises. "I'll be fine."

I frowned and my eyebrows furrowed. "Does she know about this?"

Rhea shook her head. "I doubt it, but I'm sure she'll find out about it eventually. Aphrodite saw me earlier, you know how she is. And I'm sure I'll run into Athena here soon, Lord knows she won't let it go sitting down."

I smirked at this too, we were something of a family here. An odd family, but a tight one nonetheless. And this wouldn't sit very well with the others. I nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry about me," Rhea insisted, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Do you have an interesting story today?" She looked at me, praying to change the subject.

I shrugged, staring at the water. "We will see, won't we?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Loosely based on characters and themes from "The Butterfly Garden" written by Dot Hutchenson._

 _ **Heavy** Lemons and mature themes to follow._

* * *

I stared at myself in the mirror in the backstage room. My hair was clean as usual, my face was newly shaven, at least my costume this time was not degrading. I had on a simple white v-neck shirt and blue jeans.

PERFORMER: APOLLO  
LOCATION: STAGE C  
TIME: 11:00  
STORYLINE: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS STUCK AT HOME DURING A STORM.

Easy. I put the description packet aside on the table, and pushed my way through the stage door.

I was the first one there. The stage was set as a simple bedroom, looked to be 'my' bedroom: college posters on the wall, a fake window on one of the corners of the room, a bed with a simple blue comforter and pillows on it. Nothing fancy.

There was a cracking sound, a bright light, and a roll of thunder.

"Holy shit!"

I whipped around at the sound behind me, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest in surprise.

A mere yard or so away from me stood a smaller girl of about 20 years old or so. She had long, brown hair that was curled neatly, she had light green eyes, and freckles across her nose. She had to be about five foot two or three, and she was wearing a white tank top and jeans, which revealed the tops of her breasts.

"I- You-" I stammered. I couldn't stop staring, why couldn't I stop staring?

She didn't look scared to me. Surprised, maybe, but I think that was more due to the lightning. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid of lightning," she said simply.

I blinked. Was she acting, or was she being serious? "I thought you weren't afraid of anything," I replied. That would give me the answer surely.

"Oh, well, I am," she pondered for a second, stepping towards me. "It's just, I'm not too big a fan of loud things."

I raised my eyebrows. "So it's not the lightning."

"What?" she looked at me, puzzled.

"The lightning doesn't make the noise, the thunder does," I explained, glancing at the fake window in the corner of the fake bedroom. It now was simulating rain. "So if you are afraid of loud noises, you wouldn't be afraid of the lightning."

She paused for a moment, rolling this over in her head. "I guess it's more of preemptive," she thought out loud. "When I see lightning, I assume that a loud bang is going to follow it," by now she had taken more steps in my direction- she was only a few feet away. "So when I see a large bolt of lighting or a big flash I-"

Before she could finish another bright flash of light lit up the room, and a loud bang of thunder proceeded it. She jumped forward, grabbing onto me.

I chuckled softly. "I see what you mean." I looked down at her. She was cute, but in a mature sort of way. Nothing child-like, but something that was comforting.

Her eyes glanced up at mine. "See? Thunder follows the lightning."

"It does," I concluded with her.

"Are you afraid of anything?" she asked quizzically.

I raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Of lightning or thunder or anything?" she asked again.

I furrowed my eyebrows. _Was_ I afraid of anything at this point? "I guess I'm afraid of one thing," I confessed.

Her eyes locked on mine, curiosity growing behind them.

My hand reached up to graze her chin. "I'm afraid that when you leave for school, you're going to forget me."

Probably one of my most cheesy lines ever, but it followed the storyline quite nicely. I'm sure The Actress is behind the one-way glass smiling.

She smiled too. "How could I? That would be like you forgetting that you owe me for all these years," she smiled deviously.

 _She is really good at this._ I thought. The only other actress that I could think of that storylines this much beforehand is Athena, and that's because she likes to make things more interesting. "I _owe_ you?" I smiled.

"Of course you do!"

"Oh yeah? For what?"

She leaned in close to me, as if she was about to tell a secret. I could smell her hair, it smelled of vanilla or honey. "For keeping it a secret that you kissed me under the oak tree when we were five."

My heart did a flip in my chest. I wasn't expecting something like that. "I, uh, you-"

"You're stammering again," she smirked, her hands on my chest now.

Blinking, I tried to compose myself. I suddenly felt my stomach in knots, as if I was nervous. "I thought you had forgotten about that," I made up on the spot.

"You wish I had?" her eyebrow raised.

"No no-" I replied quickly. "I just, I always wondered..." I trailed on, staring into her light green eyes again. "If you wanted to kiss me again." My stomach tightened in anticipation.

She bit her lower lip and her eyes looked down at her hands. "Well, let's just say I have my own secrets, too."

"You kept secrets from me?"

"Mnhm."

Another flash of light came from the window, followed by a softer roll of thunder. Suddenly, the lights went out in the room. She grabbed onto me tighter, pulling herself close.

"It's ok," I reassured her. Glancing at the bedside table, sure enough, there was a large candle and matches. I lit a match quickly and lit the candle, catching fire instantly and filling the corner of the room with warm light. I turned back and saw the light dancing in her green eyes. "So about those secrets...?"

She grinned, knowing she wasn't going to get away with it. "I can't lie to you," she said. "There's been something I wanted to do for a long time."

"What's that?" I whispered, pulling a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She leaned in close to me, her hands finding my chest, my neck, my hair. Before I knew it she must have stood up on her tip-toes because her soft, warm lips were pressed against mine in a kiss. My heart was fluttering in my chest in a way I hadn't felt before. Her lips were tender, gentle, and tasted of salty caramel.

I ran my hand through her hair, while my other hand wrapped around her waist. I felt her sigh softly, and the kiss deepen as her lips parted, my tongue slipping softly into her mouth. She moaned lightly, pressing her chest against mine. My heart pounding, I squatted down low and picked her up, keeping our lips locked together.

She squealed lightly as I lifted her off the ground, carrying her towards the bed. My lips grasped her lower lip and tugged lightly as my knees hit the bottom of the bed. She moaned against my mouth lightly, and I laid her down gently onto the bed.

Instead of letting me stand up, she pulled me down with her, wrapping her arms around my neck. She pawed playfully at my shirt, insisting it off. I pulled it over my head, and I watched her eyes scan my torso.

Blinking, she traced the top of my chest, my collarbone, my abdomen with her fingers, followed by her eyes glancing up at me as if to ask for permission. I smiled softly and nodded, and she grinned as she bent down to kiss my skin.

Her lips lightly trailed the same path her fingers took, but this time she slowed down and took her time at each location. As she kissed the base of my neck I felt my heart race more, creating a groan-like noise from my throat. Blood began to pool in the front of my pants.

My hands found her hips as she straddled me, kissing down my stomach. My fingertips found the base of her tank top, and just as she had for me, I paused to glance into her eyes.

She stopped too, feeling my fingertips at the hem of her top, and smiled back at me, continuing to kiss my stomach down to the tops of my jeans.

I began to pull up on her top, when suddenly I heard a lout noise, more than the regular chirping from the Green light changing to Yellow. I sat up on the bed, concerned, and glanced towards the large glass pane on the wall. The light was red.

I stared at it for a moment, confused. Had we done something wrong? We followed the plot line to a T, had I missed something? She sat up too, watching my gaze. She looked concerned, not scared really, but she obviously knew that I would be the one to know what was going on.

Before I could say anything to her, the backstage door swung open, and The Actress stepped through into the room. She had on a floor length green dress with thin straps, her hair pulled to one side. "I apologize," she said shortly. "But I need to speak with Apollo."

* * *

Pulling my shirt back on over my head, her dark green eyes met mine heavily. The new girl had been escorted out of the room by one of the other actresses whom I had not met before. I hope she wasn't in any trouble.

"Is everything ok...?" I asked, concerned.

"No," she responded. But she didn't look mad. "Did you talk to Rhea this morning?"

Relief filled my body. "Yes, have you seen her?"

She shook her head. "I didn't get a chance to walk through this morning, Athena approached me during your set." That must have been hard, you can usually _never_ interrupt The Actress in the middle of a set. "Did she tell you what happened?"

I pursed my lips slightly. "Nothing too much, she didn't want to talk about it." How much did Rhea want me to say? Did she want me to say anything at all?

"I see," she nodded. She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I will meet with her this evening."

I nodded in response. "Is, uh, she-" I glanced up at the door.

She followed my gaze knowingly. "Asteria? She did well. It might be a while until I assign her something challenging, but she was a happy surprise for me today. I am very pleased," she said, smiling.

 _Asteria_ , I thought. My heart fluttered again.

"However I may have to postpone regular scheduling due to this issue," she frowned, thinking into the distance. "But you are free to resume your daily activities, Apollo. You did a fantastic job."

She kissed me on the cheek, and patted my arm. Leading the way through the backstage door, I couldn't help but say her name again.

 _Asteria._


	4. Chapter 4

_Loosely based on characters and themes from "The Butterfly Garden" written by Dot Hutchenson._

 _ **Heavy** Lemons and mature themes to follow._

* * *

I ran my hands through my hair. It had been a few hours since our interrupted story, and I still haven't seen Asteria.

"You ok, man?" Eros came up behind me, patting me on the shoulder and sitting down next to me.

I sighed heavily into my hands, hanging my head. "Today was a shit day," I confessed.

He shook his head. "I get it, man. How did your set go?"

I looked up at him. "It didn't- I mean, it _did_ , but it didn't-"

"What are you talking about?"

Before I could respond to him, there was a banging noise as the doors to the break room swung open, making way for Zeus and his smug face.

I felt anger rising in my body: what he did to Rhea was not only unnecessary but unforgivable. "Hey," I barked at him.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk widening across his naive expression. As if he didn't do anything wrong. "Can I help you?" he asked.

I stood up from my seat, Eros staring at me in surprise. My hands were clenched at my sides. "Actually, you can't help _me._ But I think you owe my friend, Rhea, an apology."

I began to feel the other eyes in the room falling on me. Some people in the corner of my vision even began to peek in from the courtyard.

Zeus began to chuckle. He was easily a few inches taller than me, and definitely larger than me. "Oh I don't really think so. If anything, she should be _thanking_ me: for giving her the best fuck of her life."

My jaw tightened. "Yeah is that what you think it was?"

"Oh I know it was," he said sternly, keeping locked eye contact on me. "Because I made sure that my cock slammed into that bitch until she couldn't see straight-"

I felt my fist connect with his nose before I could blink. A warm liquid coated my knuckles, and Zeus bent over to feel the remnants of his nose. In all reality I didn't do that much damage, just seemed to cause some bleeding and fuel his rage.

I saw his fist come towards my face, and before I could react, his other hand hit me in the sternum, sending me backwards. I landed on my back, the world spinning around me: the air wasn't coming into my lungs, no matter how hard I was inhaling. Zeus was coming towards me, leaning over me, pinning me down with his knees into my thighs.

"Should I give you a fucking? Let you know what it's like, eh?" he smiled as blood seeped out of his nose. He pulled another fist back but before he could make contact with me he froze as if he had been shot.

The entire room was dead silent: almost as if the air had escaped the room and no one could breathe. I found Zeus's gaze and followed it to the figure standing in the doorway.

The Actress was wide-eyed, shocked, and frozen in place. Her hand was over her mouth, her eyes frightened. She had on the same floor length green gown that she had on before.

Zeus stood up off of me, not offering a hand to get up. I sat up on my elbows, keeping my eyes on her.

"Both of you to your rooms," she commanded, her hand leaving her face into a fist. " _Now._ "

Zeus hesitated, looking back at me again.

" _I SAID NOW,_ " she growled at him, her upper lip trembling. I had never seen her like this. Part of me was concerned that I upset her, but the other half of me wasn't sorry.

As I stood up from the floor and crossed the room, I felt her hardened gaze soften to disappointment. I felt like a little kid who had just been caught in a lie by his parents. I closed the door to my bedroom, hearing her turn on the automatic lock behind me.

* * *

I didn't keep track of how long I was in my time out. I was the one who started it, so what does that mean for me? What kind of punishment? Would I be the next section in her book case? Maybe if I'm lucky I will see Zeus there tomorrow.

I heard her automatic locking system retract in the door. Through the slot slid a blue envelope: I've never seen blue before. But it _had_ to be the middle of the night. Was this my story for the next day?

PERFORMER: APOLLO  
LOCATION: STAGE B  
TIME: 00:30  
CHARACTER DESCRIPTION:

My heart sunk into my chest. What was happening? Was this it? I felt like I couldn't breathe just as I had in the break room. Would Zeus be there?

I checked the time on my wall clock: 00:00.

Walking down the hallway, I passed by the book case. Passing by each of the bodies in their individual tanks, frozen in time. I passed Hermes, a small, spindly man who was around 26 when he was given the red envelope. I had only known him for about a year or so, but he was nice from what I heard.

Iris was next to Hermes, which was fitting because those two were best friends. They came into The Stage around the same time that year, and had many stories together. Which may be why The Actress placed their tanks next to each other. Their hands that were in the middle seemed to be reaching out to grasp the other's, if only it weren't for the glass.

The light outside Stage B was glowing, indicating the room was about to be used. A lump in my throat began to form, as my heart pounded in my chest.

Pushing the door into the back stage room, I looked around for a costume or another copy of the description: nothing. My heart began pumping faster. There was a post-it note on the mirror with handwriting on it.

 _Take everything off. Leave it here._

I could feel my heart in my mouth as it pumped blood to all parts of my body. I peeled my clothes off layer by layer, piling them on a chair in the corner. Glancing one last time in the mirror, I closed my eyes and pushed into the stage.

* * *

There was nothing on the stage except for a medical table in the center of the room. I could take a hint, that was where I was meant to be. The light above the one-way glass wasn't even on green: it wasn't on, _period_. Where was she?

I sat on the medical table, feeling its cool metal against my naked body.

"Lay down."

I heard her voice behind me, giving me goosebumps. I closed my eyes and did as she said, laying on my back onto the table, not opening my eyes until I looked up at the ceiling with a singular light shining down onto me.

"Zeus deserved so much more than what you did to him today, Apollo." I heard her heels clicking against the tile floor towards me. I still couldn't look at her. "But I do not allow violence here at The Stage. I cannot tolerate it for whatever motive it might be caused by." She was closer now.

I felt my heart beating in my ears. Was this how I was going to die? I closed my eyes again: what was my mom's face like? What did Dad do for a living? What was my name?

"Apollo," I felt her warm hand against my face, pulling me back to reality.

She had strapped my hands down near my sides and my ankles to the table. I pulled against my restraints, realizing very quickly that I was left to her demise.

"I'm not sorry," I said quickly, locking eyes with her. "What he did to Rhea was wrong, I wanted him to know that."

She had changed outfits now: she was in a floor-length black silk robe, her hair pulled into a bun on the top of her hair, with earrings complimenting the robe. She looked taken aback at my outburst.

"I understand Apollo. Like I said, I don't disagree with your motive. I disagree with your method," her lips had formed a line. "And because I do not like violence myself," she said, taking the side of my face in her hand. "I'm going to put your energy to good use. _My_ use."

I blinked quickly. What did that mean?

I heard her walk behind me to where I couldn't see and pull up a metal table. I fought my restraints to see what she had brought with her but to no avail.

"I am good to you, Apollo," she said, fiddling with something on the table. "It is your turn to be good to me." My heart kept up its pace as I continued to look for her. She came around to me on my left side, her robe pulled down to reveal one shoulder.

"You don't get a say tonight in what happens. Your only job is to listen to me, understand?" She looked me in the eye, any hint of softness or gentleness gone from her green eyes.

I nodded.

"What was that?"

"Yes."

She grabbed my cheeks in one hand, pulling my face towards hers. "Yes _. What?"_

I swallowed. "Yes _Ma'am._ "

"Better," she said contently, releasing my cheeks. I was starting to get a better picture of what I was in for. This was not something I was used to, not experienced with, I wasn't really sure if I would be able to keep up.

"What is your favorite part of a story, Apollo?" She said, undoing the knot in her robe. "Be honest with me, I know when you're lying."

My mouth dried up. Did I even 'like' the stories? Sure, biologically it was satisfying, but how could I honestly say I _liked_ my lifestyle?

"I, uh, like pleasing the women," I expressed simply, my eyes watching her hands pull back the silk off her body to reveal her matching set covering her center and her breasts. It was matching black lace with sheer sections that was just enough to serve as a preview. I had never seen her body before: it was curvy, but only where it mattered. Her breasts looked full and plump, her hips were wide and the way she turned her legs in made it seem like she was trying to be a little bashful in showing her panties.

"Oh? That's vague," she raised her eyebrows in a bored expression. She took a step forward and pulled herself onto the table, straddling me. "Be more specific," she insisted.

"Uh," I said, my brain catching up with my eyes. "I like to make them feel good, taking my time, tasting them-" my breath hitched in my throat as she leaned down and kissed the base of my throat. She then bit lightly on my neck, causing me to pause my sentence mid-thought.

"Too vague," she murmured against my skin, biting again. "Let me see," she whispered into my ear, sucking it lightly. "You like to make them feel good- how?"

My mind was racing. "I like to please each part of them: to give each part of them attention," I wanted to put my hands on her, but was met with the solidifying tug of restraints. She felt me pull against them, and bit my ear lobe again.

"What parts do you like the best?" she whispered. I felt a piece of her hair graze my cheek, sending goosebumps up my spine.

"Your- their breasts," I stammered.

"What do you do to them?" she moved back down to my throat, tilting my head upwards so she could suck on my Adam's Apple.

"I- ugh- I like to kiss and lick them- to hold them in my hands-" I pulled against the restraints again.

"Do you like to suck on their nipples?" she asked, pressing her chest against mine. I felt my mouth go dry again.

"Yes Ma'am."

At this she continued down my sternum, taking a side course and kissing across my chest. She found one of my nipples and bit it lightly, causing me to suck air through my teeth and arch off the table. It was a weird sensation, one that I had not felt before.

I watched her hands go between her breasts, and in one quick tug her bra was set free and on the floor, and her breasts were in her hands. I let out a moan as I watched her fondle herself. Her breasts barely fit in her own hands as she massaged them. I leaned forward against my restraints to show that I wanted to be a part of it. She raised an eyebrow, noticing me.

"What do you want, Apollo?" she said, continuing her teasing.

"Can I taste your breast?" I asked.

"You want to please me?"

I nodded. "Yes Ma'am." I licked my lower lip.

She grinned softly and leaned forward, using her hands to press her breasts together. I pressed my mouth against the tops of her breasts, then kissed and bit my way to the center of them. They were soft, plump like little pillows. I kissed my way to one side where I captured one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked playfully on it. At this she let out a gasping moan.

"Is that what you like to do?" she whispered, holding my head against her chest now. I bit her nipple lightly, tugging at it and producing another gasp.

"Yes Ma'am," I said, her nipple still in my mouth.

Just as I was getting comfortable, she pulled away from me. I felt the blood pooling in the front of my body, almost in disappointment.

"Tell me more," she said, her eyebrows raised. "What other parts do you like?"

"I, I like to taste them," I said sheepishly.

"Taste them?" she smirked, reading my bashfulness. She leaned in close, grabbing my cheeks again. "Say it Apollo: Do you like to taste their pussy?"

I felt my member perk up at the idea. "Yes, Ma'am. I like to taste their pussy."

"I watch you, Apollo. You like to lick their clit, suck on it a little," she grabbed my lower lip with her teeth and pulled gently, causing my member to twitch. "And you slip your tongue into their pussy, tasting all their juices, don't you?" Another twitch.

"Y- y- yes Ma'am," I stammered.

"You take care of our ladies, don't you?" her eyebrow raised, her lips ready to strike again.

I nodded to the best of my abilities, my hips thrusting upwards. " _Yes_ Ma'am."

"Did you like Asteria?" Her voice was even and she sat up completely.

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked her up and down, confused. "What?"

"My newest addition. She is definitely impressive, isn't she?" she brushed some loose hair out of her face.

I blinked quickly and thought back to the girl from this afternoon: her calmness, her confidence, her eyes.

The Actress raised both eyebrows at my silence. "So she has rendered you speechless?" She proceeded to dismount me and began to put her robe back on.

"Apollo, you are one of my favorites. But I cannot condone the type of aggression that was shown today."

I hear her walk behind me, grabbing something up off a metal table. A light switch is flipped, and there, on a transportable metal table, is Asteria: her hair was wrapped into a knot, her hands were tied behind her back, and she was face down on the table, her legs bent underneath her. She was completely naked. Her head flips to the side, revealing that her mouth was covered by a gag, her eyes were wide and tear-soaked. This was not the same girl I saw earlier today.

"Asteria?" I breathed, confused.

She cried through the gag, unable to tell what she said, only that it was out of fear.

"I cannot hurt you, Apollo," Actress said, walking into my view. "But I _do_ need to teach you a lesson. Trust me, Zeus received his punishment as well." She holds up the item in her hand, revealing to me a wooden rod.

I pull against my restraints. "Don't hurt her- do it to me. _I_ punched him."

"How many times?" Actress raised an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I could hear Asteria's breath trembling.

"How many times did you punch him?" she questioned me again.

I couldn't think straight. How many times? 1? 4? Asteria's fate was in my hands and I couldn't even remember what goddamn number it was.

"Do not make me come up with a number," she warned, nearing Asteria and walking to the other side of her, facing me.

"Three!" I grunted, pulling against my restraints again. "I punched him three times."

"Are you lying to me?" she asked. Who knows if I was or not. God help me if I was.

I shook my head. "No."

She took in a breath and let it out. "Good. By the looks of Zeus' face I would say you are right. Rise, Asteria," she had placed her hand on Asteria's lower back: instructing her to raise her butt into the air. But Asteria was trembling and frozen with fear. Her face was still to me but her eyes were tightly shut.

" _Now_." Actress smacked the rod off the table, creating a loud bang. Asteria let out a yelp, and trembling, leaned back into the yoga-like pose. She began crying again.

"I'm sorry," I said loudly, both to Actress _and_ Asteria. "Please, I'm so sorry," I begged.

"And me, as well, Apollo." Actress looked me dead in the eye as she raised the rod up to her shoulder level and brought it down hard against Asteria: a loud smack echoed in the room followed by a shriek and cries through her gag. My stomach flipped and my eyes shut.

This was my fault.


End file.
